


Constellations on Your Skin

by Brokenwords



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, PWP, Rimming, Sex in Nature, Sexual sitations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokenwords/pseuds/Brokenwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was so quiet, just the soft rush of air through leaves and the odd chirp of a cricket; peaceful, calm.  A small grin parted his mouth, mischievous and secret.  The sky was spread out above him in the small clearing, a perfect velvet painting and under it he slowly fiddled with the zip of his hoodie before tugging it down.  It fell to the grass with a soft plop, followed shortly by the flump of his t-shirt.  He was working on the button of his jeans when a low growl reached his ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations on Your Skin

It was getting dark, the light blue of the sky turning deep indigo and melting into black. Stiles should be afraid - he knew what lurked in the forest, the creatures that skulked in shadows with glowing eyes and sharp teeth - but the shudder that ran down his spine, had nothing to do with fear. The moon was new, barely a fingernail of silver hanging low as bright holes slowly began to flicker through the India ink sky. He was safe out here, the smell of earth and grass and musk; warm despite the way cool air hit bared skin. 

Standing in the clearing he slowly looked around, willing his eyes to adjust to the night, to try pick out shapes in the trees. There was nothing there, nothing his plain human senses could pick out, but he knew he wasn’t alone. He hadn’t been alone since he’d left the house behind, fingers tracing over bark and brush, leaving an unnecessary trail behind until he’d found a suitable spot to rest. 

It was so quiet, just the soft rush of air through leaves and the odd chirp of a cricket; peaceful, calm. A small grin parted his mouth, mischievous and secret. The sky was spread out above him in the small clearing, a perfect velvet painting and under it he slowly fiddled with the zip of his hoodie before tugging it down. It fell to the grass with a soft plop, followed shortly by the flump of his t-shirt. He was working on the button of his jeans when a low growl reached his ears.

He froze for only a second. Just long enough to feel the change in temperature in the air around him and hear the words, “So trusting,” rumbled in his ear.

Stiles smirked and stretched, forcing muscles to loosen and relax as he tipped his head back. “And here I thought I recalled you saying I didn’t trust you.”

The growl deepened; annoyed this time and he bit back a laugh that morphed into a shiver as one sharp claw slid down his spine. Hot breath skittered across his neck and he tilted it subconsciously, arching up instead of away. “I know,” he breathed mockingly. “Shut up Stiles.”

Displeasure twisted into a soft huff of laughter seconds before lips and _teeth_ clamped over the hollow curve between shoulder and neck, sucking bruises into pale skin. A groan stuttered out of him and Stiles melted into the figure behind him, all hot bare skin and smooth hands that tugged him close and smoothed over his belly. 

“It’s dangerous out here,” the words were nipped into him. “You never know what might follow you in the dark.”

“I have a vivid imagination,” Stiles breathed out as he kicked off his shoes, bare toes sinking into the ground. “You’d be surprised what I’d come up with.”

“Oh?” The question was indulging and amused. 

“C-crazy things,” he stammered as thumbs popped open his jeans and slowly slid the rough fabric down his thighs, taking soft cotton with. “Things like mythological creatures that like to stalk their prey, following them into forests and doing all sorts of horrible sordid things to them. Too bad I know the truth.” 

He got another soft chuckle for that, the type of noise that cut through Stiles and made him ache with want and happiness, because he did that, he made _Derek Hale_ smile, laugh even. It was an addicting feeling, as consuming as the fiery path fingers were branding into his hips. “And what is the truth?” Derek urged. 

“That it isn’t horrible at all,” Stiles leaned back and let a grin wrap across his face, naughty and unashamed. “And that the prey really was just luring the monster in all along because werewolves have stupid sensitive ears and privacy is a precious commodity around here.” 

A low groan vibrated into him before Stiles was gently being pushed down, into soft grass and dirt, cool under his fingers and toes. “Back pocket,” he managed to stutter out, jeans and boxers still caught around his knees and he felt teeth nip teasingly into his left cheek before being laved with a hot tongue. His hips stuttered and he moaned, even as Derek reached for the things he’d carefully brought along and laid them out beside. Then warm palms were parting him and a rough tongue was licking into him and it was all Stiles could do to breathe. 

*

The grass tickled, his hoodie and shirt doing a piss-poor job of a blanket to lie on, but Stiles didn’t care. Not when his bones felt like liquid and his skin throbbed in tune with his heart. He was sure there were marks littering his spine and across his shoulders, and he’d have to watch where he changed in the near future, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the length of hot skin pressed against his side and Derek’s fingers slowly tracing over his back, sketching shapes and drawing out shivers. 

“What are you doing?” he mumbled lazily. 

Derek kissed the area he’d just been tracing. “You have the big dipper on your shoulder,” he answered quietly. 

“I-“ Stiles snorted. “I have the big dipper on my shoulder? Seriously? Are you tracing constellations on my back? With my _moles_?”

“Stiles,” the growl was back, deep and trying to be menacing but missing by a mile when Stiles could feel the smile where lips pressed into his skin. 

“Yeah, yeah, Shut up. You don’t even need to say it anymore,” He grinned into the pillow of his arms but quieted anyway. It was too peaceful out here to need words, and for once he was willing to just feel it wash over him, let Derek have his way because he so rarely had anything go right for him. If the man wanted to trace stars into his skin and rest in the calm of knowing the full moon was a month away, then Stiles would grant him that and so much more. Especially if it included more mind melting orgasms. 

He smiled again and let his eyes close. It was dark, quiet and he knew _exactly_ what prowled in the forest. He’d lured it out here after all and he was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be fluffy. Then it spiraled into pure porn with only vague hints of plot and still sickeningly sweet. Oops? 
> 
> Anyway, the prompt for this was this picture http://tingedwords.tumblr.com/post/44835352020 (also incidentally that is my tumblr which is all just pretty pictures and nothing actually Teen Wolf related...) because it reminded me of Stiles’ freckles and moles and god do I love them. And I am posting this without reading it over or having it beta'd so... sorry for mistakes.


End file.
